


I Swear You Put the Sun Up in My Sky

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction
Genre: 19-Year-Old Harry Styles, 21-Year-Old Louis Tomlinson, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Beach fic, Beaches, Bruce Tomlinson (Dog), Business/Theater Major Louis Tomlinson, Clifford Tomlinson (Dog), Dom Louis Tomlinson, Established Niall Horan/Barbara Palvin, Established Zayn Malik/Perrie Edwards, F/M, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Georgia-Rose (Dog), Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson-centric, Law Student Harry Styles, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Gemma Styles, Mentioned Jay Tomlinson, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne/Perrie Edwards, Multi, Nick Grimshaw (mentioned) - Freeform, PR Manager Perrie Edwards, Playlist, Recreational Drug Use, Shy Harry Styles, Slight enemies to lovers, Sub Harry Styles, Tags are in progress, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne - Freeform, harry styles/louis tomlinson - Freeform, slightly nsfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:29:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27467227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And that is how Harry Styles met Louis Tomlinson for the first time; in the pet aisle of a local grocery store, under the fluorescent lights, with Barbara Palvin looking curiously over his shoulder, completely and utterly tongue-tied.AKA the fic where Harry and Louis end up staying in neighboring beach houses, and they just can't seem to stop running into each other.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan/Barbara Palvin, Perrie Edwards/Zayn Malik, Perrie Edwards/Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 7





	1. Take You to Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, okay, so. This is my first ever fan fiction. I was inspired by my trip to the beach where I couldn't stop thinking about how great the house I'm staying in would be for a trip with friends and how annoying my neighbors were. So, this. My self-indulgent beach fic. 
> 
> Also, since this already my made up world, no COVID. In real life I encourage all of you to stay home and wear a mask.
> 
> Un beta-ed; like I said, I am new to this, so I wouldn't know where to find a Beta if I wanted one, but it's alright. :)
> 
> All titles are from songs on Little Mix's new album Confetti, which was part of the inspiration, so stream Confetti.  
> Work title from "Holiday"  
> Chapter 1 title from "Rendezvous"
> 
> Obviously these are real people and I mean no disrespect by writing this. I am not claiming ownership over them, their lives, or their work.

Despite the cool air blowing from all of the vents in Niall’s shitty sedan and the open windows on both the passenger and driver side, Harry’s curls were still sticking to his forehead. It was hot. He had swallowed his complaints about it being too cold for a beach trip (I mean, really, who goes to the beach in November) when he was promised warm weather and booze from Niall to go all the way out to the Outer Banks for Barbara’s late birthday. He had no idea how wrong he would end up being when he complained about it being winter. It was too fucking hot.

He certainly wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth however, and Niall had only been able to afford the cabin if they went in November, an admittedly slow month for beach rentals in North Carolina. When Liam had heard about the trip he - sensibly, as always - expressed concerns about the weather, for even a state as far south as North Carolina was subject to some winter weather at this time of the year. Harry had initially agreed, and had predicted that he would spend all his time inside, spent reading by the fireplace. He and Liam were eating their words now, sweating in the stuffy backseat of Niall's car, stuck with Barbara’s German Shepherd Georgia sitting between them. 

Usually Harry could claim the front seat by feigning car sickness or pulling the childhood best friend card, but now Barbara claimed that seat as his girlfriend. She was not immune to the heat either, her hair tied up in a patterned silk bandana (that Harry would no doubt steal at some point during the trip) and one arm resting out the window. Niall also had an arm out of his window, but despite that _and_ his direct access to a vent, Harry could see the sweat dripping down the back of Niall’s neck from where he sat. He fought not to make a face or noise of disgust, knowing that he was probably not faring much better.

Niall was truly the mastermind of this trip, having done everything from find and rent the cabin to picking each of them up at their respective homes. It was the time of year when they were all home from their universities, so Niall had just brought Barbara back with him from their shared school and picked Liam and Harry up from their hometowns to make the drive. 

Even though the drive was only three and a half hours (Harry was certain that Niall would be able to make it in two with the way he was driving), the heat was becoming insufferable. Liam had stripped his shirt off about 10 minutes into the drive, and was currently reading what looked to be an incredibly boring computer programming book for a class. Or, at least Harry hoped it was for a class, but knowing Liam he may have just been reading that for fun. He fought the urge to roll his eyes when he saw Liam smiling like he actually enjoyed the dense chapters.

After getting over his initial distaste, though, Harry stared wistfully at him, wishing he could do his work in a moving car without immediately feeling nauseous. He only had one last paper to write and turn in before he was free for Thanksgiving break, but if he tried pulling out his laptop, he wouldn't need to _feign_ carsickness to fight Barbara for the front seat. Instead, he leaned his head against the closed window (Niall couldn't figure out how to turn the child lock off, so they were stuck with closed windows in the backseat) and listened to the radio. A new Ariana Grande song was playing at a volume just high enough that he could just hear it if he tuned everything else out and focused, so he hummed along quietly, being interrupted every now and then by their GPS giving Niall directions, Georgia panting next to him, or Barbara and Niall quietly conversing.

The mood in the car wasn't exactly sour, but it _was_ a lot of time to be spending together in a confined and hot space, and conversation had petered off around the second hour mark when Harry had asked for another bathroom break. It wasn't his fault that he had the bladder of a small animal and that he drank a lot of water, but by the third request, Niall had simply gripped the steering wheel and said that he could wait.

Finally, blessedly, they turned off the highway. They crossed some smaller bridges over a few rivers with names that Barbara made fun of (ex. Alligator and Yaw), and they slowed when they approached the bridge that would bring them off of the mainland and onto the island. Harry wasn't exactly the anxious type, but he didnt love the idea of being over the ocean, and the bridge was much taller and longer than he originally thought it was going to be. Liam said nothing - didn't even look up from his book - when Harry silently reached over and gripped his wrist as they went over the crest of the bridge. When they finished going over the first bridge, Harry breathed a little easier, peering around curiously at the first island. They ended up crossing two other big bridges and a few smaller ones, giving Harry a sense that at least they were getting sort of close to their final destination. When the road turned to one lane and the traffic thinned out, even Liam perked up, shutting his book and looking out of the windows excitedly.

They turned onto a gravel path that was so bumpy it made Harry’s teeth clack together as they hit pothole after pothole. Quaint and brightly painted beach houses with punny names displayed on colorful signs lined the path, and as they drove further and further along the street, they saw less and less houses and more sand dunes. Finally, Niall pulled up to a house at the very end of the road and parked - straight on the sand - clasped his hands together and grinned at each of them in turn. 

> “Well lads,” He started, only adding a rushed: “and ladies” when Barbara pinched his arm. “Welcome to the Coconut Cottage.”
> 
> “Thank fuck,” Liam gasped eloquently. “Let me out of this devil's oven.” He grumbled, pushing open the door before Niall had even finished his introduction.

Niall murmured something about “showing Liam a true devil’s oven” before hopping out himself, undeterred by the heat or Liam’s commentary. Barbara moved out as well, far too polite to complain about the heat, clipping a leash to Georgia and bringing her out of the car. Harry stepped out and took a deep breath, reaching his arms above his head and stretching before dropping them, taking in the sound of the waves crashing and the scenery.

They were finally here. They had made it. Dog breath and third wheeling and heat aside, they were here. Two full weeks of relaxing on the beach, drinking and reading and not worrying about school at all. At least, not worrying about school at all after tonight, he told himself firmly, taking his duffel bag out of the car and slinging it over his shoulder. He would ace this paper, be done with it, and take a well deserved rest, he thought, grinning smugly, before shaking himself out of his thoughts and following Niall up to the house.

* * *

Louis woke up with his hair stuck to his cheek. Why this was, he was not sure, but he smacked his lips a few times and tried to swallow, only to discover that his mouth tasted like something crawled into the back of his throat and died there. 

> “Zayn.” He croaked out, throwing his arm across the expanse of bed (that he couldn't be bothered to cross at the moment) to try and find Zayn, having a vague memory of them crawling into bed together the night before. He was rewarded for his efforts when his hand connected with what he was sure was the other man’s chest and punched a breath out of Zayn that tapered off into something between a gasp and a groan. 
> 
> “Fuck off.” Came Zayn’s muffled accent from somewhere by Louis’ feet. Judging by the state of his voice, Louis could assume that they were in similar states, hangover-wise. Luckily both of them were still completely dressed, Louis having just fallen asleep in what he had worn the day before - a pair of jeans that were currently biting into his thighs and a random t-shirt - and Zayn in the red swim trunks and tank top Louis remembered him donning a few hours before everything went fuzzy.

Suddenly, _annoyingly_ , there was a blinding burst of light and a noise that sounded like a gunshot. Peeling open his eyes slowly, he blinked a few times to discern that the human shaped silhouette at the foot of their bed that was none other than Perrie Edwards, hands pressed together like she’d just clapped. So that had been the noise. She had also pulled open the curtains that covered the glass doors that led onto his porch facing the beach. He didn't even bother saying anything to her, just lifting a hand and moving it in a way that he thought would be passable for a greeting. After, he let his hand drop back onto the bed and nudged what he thought was Zayn's shoulder with his foot. “Zaynie,” He said, voice wrecked. “Your fiance has arrived.” 

> “Pezza.” Zayn mumbled as enthusiastically as he could while not moving from where his head was smushed into a pillow at the foot of Louis’ bed. 
> 
> “Well now, this certainly wasn't the greeting I was expecting from my fiance and his best mate, who asked, nay, _begged_ me to come and stay with them.” Came her amused, lilting tone. If Louis looked down to the foot of his bed, he could see that she was fondly and comfortingly running her fingers through Zayn’s hair. He grinned to himself. They were sickening. He loved them.

Instead of responding to anything she had said, he simply made a motion he hoped was similar enough to a shrug to pass. “A bit overdressed for the beach, eh, Pezza?” He said instead, willing consciousness into his legs so he could get up for a piss.

Perrie just scoffed and crossed her arms. She was wearing a teal button up shirt with a ridiculously big bow at the collar tucked into black slacks. Louis was willing to bet money (that he didn't have) that she was wearing heels, though he couldn't see her feet. Her soft pink-blonde hair was piled into some complicatedly messy knot at the back of her head and her makeup looked perfect as usual. 

> “Well, _Lewis_ ,” She started, moving away from Zayn to open the blinds of the windows at the side of the room, eliciting a soft noise of protest from him when her fingers left his hair. Louis smirked to himself when he heard the telltale click of heels against his linoleum floor. “Some of us actually have jobs.” 

Louis just lazily chucked the nearest thing to his head at her, which happened to be a pillow. She dodged easily and disappeared through the bedroom door. Louis was truly envious of Perrie’s job, so much so that he didn't let himself think about it too much, or else he was sure he would be resentful. 

Perrie was still finishing up her degree in business, but on the side, she worked for a record label. Originally as an intern, then as a secretary, and now she worked in their PR department part time. It's only a matter of time before she moves to full time, but Louis knows how important getting a degree is to her, so she's been waiting to move to full time work. For far too long he had been considering swallowing his pride and asking her to get him an interview, but he alway chickened out in the end.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of scrabbling nails against the floors. He opened his mouth to try and warn Zayn before they are assaulted by two overly excited masses of fur. Bruce and Clifford had launched themselves onto the bed; Bruce landing carefully, barely managing to avoid stepping on Zayns hair while Clifford full-on slammed into Louis’ chest, pushing the air out of his chest and pressing him back into his pillow, losing all progress towards getting up that he’d made. 

> “I fed them for you when I got here and let them out.” Perrie said, re-entering the room, pressing two small pills and a glass of water into Zayn’s hand. Zayn - who was now sitting up to avoid being laid on by Bruce - gratefully accepted, draining the whole glass in one go, one hand lazily scratching Bruce’s ears.
> 
> “Ugh, fuck, Cliff,” Louis said, spitting hair out of his mouth as Clifford continued to try and suffocate Louis with kisses. “Down. Off.” He tried, pointing down to the floor. Bruce, the good boy, jumped down and sat by the door. “Cliff I swear, you're not allowed on the bed, you know this.” He said, finally getting Clifford off of him and his bed with a few more shoves. 

Both Perrie and Zayn watched in amusement, neither lifting a finger to help him, mind you. Perrie clapped again opening her mouth to speak but hesitating when the noise caused both Louis and Zayn to wince. She gave them an apologetic and amused look for a moment before speaking. “Er, sorry. Force of habit. Anyways, I’ll make us some breakfast. You two go work on getting yourselves back to functioning members of society, yeah?” She said, the question at the end completely rhetoric. She kissed Zayn’s cheek, took the glass from him and breezed out of the room.

The room was silent - save for the dogs’ panting - for a moment before Zayn sighed dreamily and said “What a woman.” 

And though Louis agreed, he took the last pillow he had and hit Zayn square in the face. 

* * *

The _Coconut Cottage_ itself charmed Harry right away. Painted a soft sky blue and planted right on the beach, it stood at three levels tall. The first level was simply stakes holding up the house to protect it from storm surges and high tides. There was a small outdoor shower and grilling area near the side of the house closest to the beach but other than that, the ground level was simply gravel, sand, and wooden posts. The entrance to the house sat at the top of a flight of wooden stairs that creaked when Harry stepped on them. From the top of the staircase, he also saw that there was the option to walk around to a lower level deck facing the beach or up a connecting set of stairs to an upper level deck, also facing the beach.

Inside, the house was no less charming. Kitschy signs that proclaimed that the beach was a “fanta- _sea_ ” and that the house had a rule about “no _crabby_ attitudes” hung at almost every turn. The downstairs had three bedrooms and a bathroom, all good sizes and painted beachy pastels, one having a king sized bed and the other two having queen sized beds. Liam quickly claimed the king sized room, but Harry wasn't bothered; both of the rooms with queen sized beds had sliding glass doors that opened onto the lower porch and looked right out onto the beach. He gladly claimed one of those, immediately flinging open the door and grinning when the sound of waves crashing and the smell of salt air flowed in. 

Upstairs, there was a wide, open living room, eat-in kitchen and another bedroom with a king sized bed and an ensuite, which was left for Barbara and Niall. On the wall facing the beach, there were two sliding glass doors that opened to a similar porch overlooking the beach. Soft navy blue sofas circled a small white coffee table, and a TV sat on the wall opposite the seating. A charming wooden table with mismatched chairs sat in the small eating area, next to a nice, clean, updated kitchen. 

Barbara, on her way from her room to the kitchen, ruffled Harry’s hair. 

> “Cute, huh?” She said softly, leaning on the wall and twirling the end of her hair around her finger. “Niall did a good job.” She finished fondly, a soft smile on her face.

Harry couldn't help but grin and murmur a soft agreement, hooking his phone up to the bluetooth speaker that Niall had brought and putting a random playlist on shuffle. _Flowers In The Window_ by Travis was the first song that played. He loved love, and seeing Barbara and Niall so in love made him happy for his friends, but insanely jealous at the same time. 

He had honestly put finding someone to the side for school. He was in his Sophomore year, but his work had already piled up. Pre-law was no joke, and he always felt like he was falling behind. He knew it would all be worth it one day when he would be able to help people, but right now, it just felt like a shitton of work to pull mediocre grades in his classes. Whatever. Now was not the time or place to get stressed about school.

> “As hesitant as I am to give Niall a compliment - he lets it go to his head, see - ” Harry said, grinning at Barbara as she went to open both sliding doors and all of the blinds and windows. He moved to help, airing out the room and letting light and the sound of waves crashing in. “This place is pretty fucking great.” He finished, stepping out onto the upper level porch and grinning, taking in the view.

Though there were some houses behind them, there was nothing infront of them but the ocean. Their only really close neighbors were a small, two level house to Harry’s right. It was painted a pale seafoam green and had a circular layout. There were two cars there but he couldn't see anyone outside now so he figured that they would be no trouble. 

Harry went back inside. _50 Ways to Leave Your Lover_ by Paul Simon was playing from the speaker and he did a little dance, bopping his head along and shimmying by Liam, who gave him a quick smile from where he was sitting on the couch, scrolling through the channels they had and putting on a random soccer game. Typical.

Barbara and Niall were in the kitchen, she was rifling through the drawers, no doubt taking stock of what they had, and he was eating a Twizzler that he had found somewhere.

> “We need food.” Barbara said with a hum, closing the fridge doors. “So lets plan.” She said, taking a random notepad off of the fridge and starting a list.

* * *

Once he’d showered, drank some water and brushed his teeth, Louis felt far closer to being back to his normal self, ringing in his ears aside. One could also attribute that to the heroic dose of Advil that he’d downed. He shuffled out of his bedroom and into the living room in red swim shorts and a white long sleeved t-shirt. He realized belatedly that long sleeves were probably not the best idea for what promised to be a hot day, but he didn’t feel like going back to change. Not to mention he didn't have anything clean to change into. Fuck, he really needed to do laundry.

He made his way through the living room and towards the back of the house. His house was set up weirdly, with the bedrooms being in the front of the house so that they would be able to face the beach, the wide, circular living room in the middle, and the kitchen and entrance in the back, furthest from the beach. Perrie and Zayn were sitting at his kitchen table, which was in a nook off to the side of the kitchen. 

_So Far Away_ by Carol King floated through the house, no doubt courtesy of Perrie, but Louis decided to keep his complaints about the music to himself when he saw the plate of pancakes sitting on the table in front of Perrie and Zayn. 

> “Perrie, if Zayn wasn't already marrying you, I would have to.” He moaned, sitting down across from the two of them, picking up a pancake with his hands, and taking a bite.

Zayn silently flipped him off, head leaning on Perrie’s shoulder, eyes closed, pancakes sitting untouched in front of him. 

> “Lou, darling, as touched as I am by the gesture, you and I both know that you couldn't get within 10 feet of a vagina without spontaneously combusting.” She said with a huff of a laugh, shimmying her shoulder a little to try to get Zayn off of it so he would eat.

Louis rolled his eyes but didn't bother arguing. They all knew it was true. Hell, before Perrie and Zayn got together, he and Zayn had hooked up once or twice. If he was going to go for a girl, though, Perrie was first on his list. He started on a second pancake before Perrie spoke again.

> “I do have to say, that was the last bit of food in your kitchen. You need to go shopping. Like, immediately.” She said, finally succeeding at getting Zayn to eat by tearing up pieces of a pancake and basically hand-feeding them to him. 

Louis nodded. “I had planned to go today anyway. I'm surprised that you were able to find anything to make with the state that my pantry’s been in.” He said, stuffing another bite in his mouth. The pancakes were truly delicious. Perrie was a witch. He took another.

> “My god. You guys must have gotten fucked last night.” She said, gesturing to Zayn’s current state. He didn't move. “What happened? And why did you do it without me?” She asked, pouting slightly, trying to look Zayn in the eyes, but he just shook his head.

Louis rolled his eyes at Zayn. He was such a baby when he was hungover. “I think we packed a few bowls after we’d been drinking. That was our downfall. Well, his downfall. I’m okay now.” He muttered with a wince. Zayn made a noise of assent from Perrie’s shoulder, chewing numbly on a bit of pancake.

Louis dropped a bit of pancake on the floor for Bruce, then another bit for Clifford. A nasty habit, but he couldn't help himself when they begged. After one final pancake for himself, he stood, the noise of his chair scraping against the floor making both him and Zayn wince. 

> “If you think of anything you need other than normal groceries just text.” He said after his head stopped spinning, holding up his phone and giving it a slight wave. Frankly he hated grocery shopping, and was pretty shit at it according to Zayn, always taking too long and getting the wrong brands and stuff. Zayn didn't complain now, just numbly leaning on his fiance and eating pancakes. After Perrie gave him a thumbs up, he left, making sure Clifford or Bruce didn't sneak out around him and making sure the door closed all the way behind him. That old door was notorious for not closing completely, and he really didn't feel like chasing his dogs down the beach if they got out.

He suppressed a groan when he saw that his neighbors to the left had rented out their cabin. He was glad to see that there seemed to be only one car, because normally when families came with two, they ended up taking over his rightful parking spaces. As it was, he figured his old Jeep looked terrible next to Perrie’s spotless SUV, but at least it was nicer than the car of whoever was renting his neighbors’ place. 

Usually the people who ended up renting the _Coconut Cottage_ \- what a stupid name, by the way, Louis refused to name his cabin - were loud and left trash and were generally a nuisance to everyone within a 5 mile radius. One of the main reasons that Louis had come here in November was that he had figured renter season was over. It was barely hot anymore even. 

He just shook his head and closed the door to his Jeep, leaving for Grimshaws, armed with a grocery list and a hangover.

* * *

Liam made his way over until the four of them were standing around the kitchen island. Every now and then Niall or Liam threw out a snack or a type of beer they wanted added, but mostly it was Harry and Barbara planning ingredients for meals for the first week. When they had a good list going, Niall offered his credit card to Barbara, who lovingly turned it down to use her own. 

Barbara snatched Niall’s keys from where they sat on the island and made her way outside, passing Georgia and leaving the door open for Harry. Harry followed behind, not supremely excited to be getting back into the car but wanting to get the shopping done. So he scratched behind Georgia’s ears fondly before slipping out, making a mental note to pick up a toy for her as well. He took one more look at the view, the novelty of it not yet boring him, before quickly getting into Paul. (Paul was what Harry and Barbara had kindly named Niall’s car when Niall himself refused to give it a name.)

It didn't take them long to find a small, local grocery store called Grimshaws, so Barbara parked, deciding that this was good enough not to give anyone food poisoning and the pair went inside, locking Paul as they did. 

Once inside, Barbara ripped the list in half - careful not to rip any of the words - and handed Harry half of the list before disappearing to get her shopping done. It didn't take him a long time to find everything he needed as he was a pro at grocery shopping, taking care of it at home and at Uni. He snuck in some ingredients for a cake for Barbara, nothing fancy, just a box mix, and then moved on to the dog toys. There, though, he got stumped.

He stood for a long time, puzzled. He had no idea what type of toy Georgia would like best. There were so many. He had only had a cat back home with his mom, who played with his shoe laces and not much else. He considered what looked like a rubber tire and grimaced because it looked like it would hurt her teeth. So he moved on to what looked like a stuffed animal duck, but the thing was so flimsy that he knew it would fall apart immediately once Georgia got her teeth into it. While he was reading the label for a bone that was covered in what he thought was brown flavoring, a smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

> “Just choosing a dog toy. Not getting engaged.” Came an airy voice to his right.

Harry turned, shocked that a stranger would speak to him that way, but his smart rebuke died in his throat at the sight of the man. He was shorter than Harry himself by about 2 inches, light brown hair done up in a sort of pushed back, artfully messy style that Harry could never pull off himself, and his eyes. _His eyes_. His eyes were the same color as the Coconut Cottage. As the ocean when he looked at it from the porch. As the sky when he stretched and saw the blue beyond the wispy clouds. His thin pink lips were curved into an amused smile, and he had one eyebrow raised, waiting for a reaction of any kind other than staring.

All this to say, that instead of something eloquent or witty, Harry checked the other man out for a good minute before remembering that he had been spoken to in the first place. He pulled his bottom lip out from between his teeth (when had he started biting it?) and took a deep breath before speaking. “What?” was all that he managed. Eloquent. He was proud to say, though, that at least his voice didn't crack or he didn't drop to his knees there in the middle of a grocery store.

Blue-eyes just let out a chuckle, reaching past Harry to pick up a stuffed animal that looked like a teddy bear and add it to his cart, before shrugging. As he did, Harry caught a glimpse of tattoos on both his wrists and a few on his forearm when his long sleeved shirt pulled up.

> “Just saying. You looked pretty distressed over a dog toy.” He said, amusement clear in his tone.

Harry gaped a little before collecting himself. “It's actually, uh, I don't have a dog.” He said, proud of himself for that explanation. He was really just staring at blue-eyes’ thighs in the short red swim shorts that he wore. It took him a moment to realize that wasn't actually much of an explanation at all, so, before blue-eyes could respond, Harry quickly added. “It's for my friend’s dog. I've never had a dog, so I don't know what’s best.” He said, feeling a flush rushing up his cheeks. He’d never been so tongue-tied in front of a stranger before.

Blue-eyes just looked amused. “No worries, Curly,” Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. “We’ll find the perfect toy for him.” He said thoughtfully, looking Harry up and down for a moment. Harry knew it was ridiculous, but he hoped that this stranger liked what he saw, and was slightly relieved to see that blue-eyes seemed at least slightly interested. 

> “She.” Harry corrected without thinking, before biting his tongue. What does it _really_ matter? He thought to himself before deciding to continue anyway. He’d already made a proper fool of himself, so what does it matter. “She's a German Shepard, if that makes any difference.” He added politely, watching blue-eyes, who was nodding.

Blue-eyes turned back to the wall of toys in front of them and put a hand on his chin, considering. “Well. This is not a pet store, so selection is limited, but you'll need something heavy duty.” He offered. Harry tried not to let his mind come up with a million dirty jokes. He failed.

Blue-eyes continued. “I would suggest a NylaBone, or tug of war toy of some kind.” He said, offering Harry two choices. One was a tough looking plastic bone, the other was a twisted rope of sorts. Harry took the rope, fingers brushing over blue-eyes’ and weighed it in his hands, like that would make any difference. He would do whatever this stranger told him either way. That probably wasn't great, he thought belatedly.

> “I think I’ll get this one.” he said timidly, giving the stranger a weak smile. “Thank you so much for the help…” He trailed off, hoping maybe the handsome stranger would offer his name, or his hand to shake, or his lips. 
> 
> “Louis.” He said, offering Harry a small grin and opening his mouth like he wanted to add more but closed it when all of a sudden Barbara appeared at the end of the aisle, grinning and coming up next to Harry.
> 
> “Hey, you done? Niall’s gonna have a conniption if we keep Paul away much longer.” She said to Harry, with a small amused smile before realizing that Louis was there. “Oh, er, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.” She said politely, looking between Louis and Harry curiously.
> 
> “Don't worry about it.” Louis said at the same time that Harry managed to squeak out “Nothing.” 

Nice. Real inconspicuous.

Louis grinned again and nodded to the toy. “I hope she is satisfied. Glad I could be of help, Curly.” He said, giving Harry a slight salute with two fingers. He turned to walk away. Harry seized his chance. 

> “Not that I mind Curly or anything, but, uh, it’s Harry. My name’s Harry.” He said, giving Louis a bright grin, dimples showing.

Louis paused, smiling back and nodding. “Harry, then.” He said, and Harry might just have died hearing his name on Louis’ lips. 

Louis took control of his cart again and pushed it the way that Harry had already come. 

And that is how Harry Styles met Louis Tomlinson for the first time; in the pet aisle of a local grocery store, under the fluorescent lights, with Barbara Palvin looking curiously over his shoulder, completely and utterly tongue-tied.


	2. I Guess No Hard Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that is how Louis Tomlinson met Harry Styles for the second time; inadvertently, at 2am, with one of them drunk and the other apologizing.

Pulling Paul up onto the sand-dunes in front of the _Coconut Cottage_ , Harry figured Barbara had held her tongue long enough. She seemingly agreed. The drive home had been silent but comfortable, _Oh Daddy_ by Fleetwood Mac was echoing faintly through the speakers of the car, and Harry had not stopped thinking about Louis. His eyes, his legs, his tattoos, his _eyes_. 

Shoving the parking brake into place and listening to Paul stutter to a halt, Barbara turned to Harry with a polite grin, not even unbuckling. “So? Do you wanna talk about your dog toy man?” She asked, eyebrows raised. 

Harry let out a breathless laugh. “Dog toy man? You couldn't make Louis sound weirder.” He said, trying to lighten the tension, but when Barbara just patiently waited, staring at him, he let out a sigh. “There's nothing to tell. He helped me pick up a toy for Georgia that he thought she would like.”

Barbara, thank god, didn’t ask more questions, just nodded, and got out of the car, loading her arms up with the reusable bags full of their groceries that Harry insisted upon using. Harry took the rest of the bags, grinning softly to himself when he saw the dog toy sitting at the top of a bag. 

Surprisingly, the sun was setting over the beach, and when Harry looked at Barbara in silent questioning, she shrugged. “Daylight Savings.” She said simply, shimmying her shoulders when she opened the door and heard _Sledgehammer_ by Peter Gabriel playing, probably courtesy of Niall.

Once in the kitchen, Harry and Barbara danced around each other, storing away groceries and quietly listening to music, while Niall ordered them three pizzas and Liam set the table. Harry thought it was a funny habit, but Liam always liked to set a table if they had one, even if it was just for them each to individually eat slices of pizza.

Once everything was eaten and put away, Harry went to take a shower. He was surprised at how adequate the water pressure was, and happily washed his face and hair, preparing himself mentally for a long night of essay writing. At least he would have Niall for company, as Niall had to finish up math homework he’d been putting off for far too long. 

By the time he made it upstairs, it was dark outside and the pizza had arrived. Harry happily got one slice of each of the three types of pizza, one plain for Barbara and Liam, one pineapple and ham for Niall, and one veggie for Harry. He was surprised to find that the pineapple and ham one was the most tasty, and helped himself to another piece - despite Niall’s protests. 

After dinner, Liam and Niall did the dishes, while Barbara and Harry picked a movie. They picked _Emma_ , and even though Niall and Liam groaned, Harry was sure he saw tears in Liam’s eyes by the end. Once the movie ended and Niall put on _the Office_ , Liam excused himself to finish his reading and take a shower, effectively retreating downstairs. After a few more moments of blissfully procrastinating their work, Barbara finally cut them off.

> “The sooner you get this done, the sooner your vacation actually begins.” She said seriously, taking the remote and turning off the TV, kissing Niall on the cheek, ruffling Harry’s hair, and going into the room she shared with Niall. 

> “Well, fuck, Haz,” Niall said, sighing and reluctantly pulling out his laptop. “You heard the lady. Let’s get this shit done.” 

* * *

It could be 4pm or 10pm and Louis wouldn't know the difference. He, Zayn and Perrie had been in his living room doing basically nothing since he got home from the grocery store earlier in the day. They were having a movie marathon, watching all of the Marvel movies that were Zayn and Perrie’s favorites. 

Louis didn't care much for Marvel, but it was easy to let himself get lost in the visuals. The celebratory tequila was certainly helping make the formulaic plots more interesting. He rarely ever broke it out, but they were celebrating. Earlier in the day Zayn had gotten a call telling him that he had an interview at his first choice art school. So they were taking shots to celebrate him. And to celebrate Perrie coming down to the beach. And to celebrate Louis… having no idea what the fuck he was doing with his life.

Like he said, the tequila was helping. The tequila was, in fact, necessary.

So, four shots in - or five, to be honest, the tally marks that Perrie was drawing on his arm were getting a little blurry - he and Zayn decided it was a good idea to go onto the beach and go night swimming. So, with Zayn and Louis in their boxers and Perrie in her bra and panties they ran straight into the crashing waves… and then straight back out once they hit the frigid water. 

After a few more moments, and a lot of whining and adjusting they made it about waist deep before Perrie made the executive decision that they were going to get out. She thought she saw a shark. Louis maintained that it was just a shadow, but whatever. He was cold enough that he didn't argue.

Back on the beach, still in their underwear with towels and blankets wrapped around them, Zayn started up a fire, digging a slight pit so as to keep it contained. Once they had a good fire going, and the conversation died out, Perrie and Zayn started to make out. After rolling his eyes, Louis stared up at the sky and let his mind wander back to the boy at Grimshaw’s earlier.

He’d just been so… pretty. There was no other word for it. All long limbs and dimples. Wild curly hair that Louis just wanted to run his fingers through - or pull - and his eyes. His _eye_ s. Green as the paint on Louis’ house. Green as the grass in the meadow back home. Green as seaglass that washes up on the beach in front of his house. Beautiful. And, god, he'd just been so shy. Tripping over his words and biting his big, plush and oh so red lips. 

Louis let out a sigh and chucked a shell at Perrie and Zayn when he heard Zayn make a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like a moan. “Jesus, guys, keep it in your pants until you're in your room at least.”

> “He’s just bitter because he’s all alone on this lovely November evening.” Perrie said conversationally to Zayn from where she was, _ew_ , straddling him. 

> “Seriously, Lou, when’s the last time you’ve pulled? Had more than Mr. Righty…” Zayn teased, making an obscene hand gesture. 

Louis had seen enough at this point, scooting over and punching Zayn in the arm. “Fuck off Zayn, just cause Perrie pegs you every two days doesnt mean I’m not perfectly happy by myself.” He said, even though it was a lie.

> “Well, fuck off Tommo, you know you’re always welcome to join us.” Zayn said good-naturedly sticking his tongue out at Louis, shoving him back while Perrie watched them with a fond smile from his lap. Something about Louis knew that Zayn was being deadly serious, but he just shrugged him off. He didn't blame them, he WAS a hot piece, but he wasn't really into being with more than one person. At his core, he was truly a traditionalist, he thought with a snort, taking a sip of his cheap seltzer.

> “Fine then, if I’m not allowed to kiss my fiance,” Perrie said, getting off of Zayn and giving Louis a slight smack on the head. “Why don't we light off some fireworks? To celebrate Zaynie getting his art school interview.” She said with a stupid grin on her face. The tally marks on her arm showed that she was 4 shots deep.

Nothing in Louis’ alcohol saturated brain protested this, so he simply nodded and pulled his lighter out of his shorts’ pockets from where they laid on the beach as Perrie went to her car to get illegal fireworks that she’d brought from South Carolina.

Once they'd set it up as safely as they could with their limited resources and less than good coordination, they lit a few off. The first one was a quiet one, only going up and popping, fizzling a few times, but Perrie shrieked in delight.

Louis and Zayn lit off a few more of those, and then Perrie gave them ones that looked bigger, and they were. Once lit, they popped once loudly, shrieks as they flew up, then made a loud crackling at their crest, exploding colorfully. 

> “This is so fucking cool.” Zayn said, just sort of sitting down on the sand, criss-cross and staring wide-eyed up at the sky. 

Louis nodded in agreement. “It's been so long since I've seen real fireworks like these.” He said, lighting off another one. This one just shrieked and fizzled out at the crest. 

Perrie lit a few then so that Louis could sit and watch for a bit. He was so enraptured by the colorful explosions that he didn't even notice the sound of a sliding glass door somewhere to his left. 

* * *

Harry was upset. That was really the only way to put it. His eyes hurt from staring at the blinking cursor on his laptop screen. He had hit a block in his work. He had left his blue light glasses at home, so his eyes hurt. And Niall wouldn't stop complaining, so his head hurt. He mentally made a promise to himself to never leave any schoolwork for a vacation ever. Or, well, ever again.

He was supposed to be writing about the OJ trial, more specifically about a book written by one of the attorneys on the trial. His copy of “Reasonable Doubts” by Alan Dershowitz sat open to his left, and his cursor continued to blink back at him menacingly. He sighed and stretched his arms up, hearing his back pop and wincing slightly. He glanced over at Niall, who was muttering to himself while he scribbled down algebra, probably incorrectly.

Harry groaned and stared at his blinking cursor. He was about halfway done, having finished the introduction and beginning descriptions, but he was out of ideas for points he could make to give his argument complexity. He always missed the complexity points. Grumbling to himself, he stood, stretching again and moving into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and bypassing any of the alcoholic seltzers - which he so desperately wanted - sitting on the doorway and grabbing a water bottle.

He turned and cracked it open, downing about half of it just standing in the open doorway of the fridge, the light spilling out into the small kitchen. He stood for a moment, just slightly panting from nearly chugging a full water bottle. He turned, shoving the fridge door closed a little harder than he’d meant too. When the door closed, there was a loud bang and flash of light that caused Harry to jump, dropping the cap of his water bottle straight onto the floor and backing away from the fridge quickly.

> “What the fuck-” He started, before he jumped again. There was another whistling sound, and another loud pop. “I thought that it was the fridge… where is it coming from?” Harry asked, blushing slightly and shaking his head, finally recovering and walking shakily back to the table.

Niall, who too had startled - if the big black line across his paper was any indication - was now calmed too, but his shoulders tensed when there were more loud pops, screams, and bangs. Once Harry was less shocked by them, he listened carefully and was able to discern that they were coming from outside to the right of their house and towards the beach.

He'd never heard a gunshot before, but he assumed that this wasn't that. Niall had said it was a good neighborhood, and Harry had an instinct that he would feel more panic if it were. 

> “Fuckers next-door must be lighting off fireworks.” Niall mumbled to himself, pulling his wireless earbuds out of their case and putting them into his ears angrily. 

Harry sighed and shook his head again, hesitating before putting in his headphones as well, plain old wired ones, but he didn't mind. The noises faded to the background. He was just getting back into the swing of his writing - past his block - when he heard the creak of a door opening behind him. He glanced at Niall, who was looking somewhere over his shoulder, so he also turned and looked over his shoulder.

There stood Barbara, looking criminally put-together in a large, faded t-shirt of Nialls and two braids. She looked slightly bleary, rubbing her eyes and moving slowly into the kitchen. Niall took his earbuds out and stood, following her, like a moth to a flame, and Harry took out one of his earbuds to hear what they were talking about. He may have been eavesdropping. 

He didn't actually end up hearing much, their voices were so hushed, but he did hear Barbara complain quietly that the fireworks woke her up. After another moment, Niall sat back down, but he didnt start working or put his earbuds back in. He just sat and frowned, glancing between the door Barbara had just entered and the now-closed sliding glass doors.

> “Niall…” Harry said quietly, already seeing his mind working.

> “Its awfully fucking rude, huh?” Niall grumbled, still not picking up his pen again, shoulders tense. “It's almost 2am on a Tuesday night. Those assholes could wake anyone up.” He hissed, standing and shoving his chair back, wincing and pausing at the loud noise it made. 

Harry stood too, not sure what Niall was planning, but certainly wanting to be there for moral support, or, if it went wrong, to record. Once Niall was sure that his chair hadn't woken up Barbara, he tiptoed over to the sliding doors, either not noticing or not caring that Harry had stood to come with him. 

Harry shivered when they stepped outside, his bare feet and arms immediately screaming at him to cover up. He just wrapped his arms around himself and followed Niall to the far-right corner of the porch. He stood a little bit behind Niall, but if he looked, he could see remnants of a dying fire in the sand, and two unidentifiable figures sitting down in the sand with one lithe one - almost certainly a girl -standing. 

The standing figure lit up another firework, that screamed on its way up, so loudly that Harry covered his ears and winced when it exploded at the crest. Before the figure could light another one though, Niall spoke up.

> “OI, FUCKERS WITH THE FIREWORKS-” Niall started, leading Harry to quietly whisper his name in shock. “HOW ABOUT YOU CUT THAT SHIT OUT FOR THE NIGHT YOU INCONSIDERATE BASTARDS! MY GIRLFRIEND IS TRYING TO SLEEP!” Niall, bellowed, before primly turning on his heel and going in through the other sliding-glass door. 

Harry stood there in shock for a moment, before clearing his throat. Fuck, he should say something to make sure they don’t get Paul’s tires slashed by their neighbors or something. “Er, um…” He said, trying to raise his voice to make sure they heard him. “Sorry about him! But, uh, it is late, so if you could maybe stop for tonight, that would be great!” He said, positive that they hadn't heard him, but too embarrassed to try again. So he turned and scurried back inside after Niall. 

But they had heard him, and Harry and Niall did not hear any more fireworks. Barbara slept peacefully. And that is how Louis Tomlinson met Harry Styles for the second time; inadvertently, at 2am, with one of them drunk and the other apologizing.

* * *

Louis woke up covered in sand. He was also hungover, for the second day in a row. He should start going to bed _not_ under the influence. He groaned and arched his back against the floor. Wait, the floor? He sighed and sat up, vision swimming, he looked around and stretched slightly, blinking blearily. His head didn't hurt nearly as much as it had the morning before, so he counted that as a win. 

When he finally got up, he was able to stand with only a slight stumble. Win #2 for the morning. He stumbled to the kitchen, brushing sand off of his bare stomach and legs, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking a sip, before wincing. He’d forgotten to put it in the microwave and had just taken a sip of ice cold coffee that he’d forgotten to clean up from the night before. 

So he put it in the microwave, and while it was heating up, he padded his way to his room to get dressed, frowning upon finding that the door was closed and frowning even deeper when he found it locked. He was slow to put the pieces together, but once he did, he gasped audibly and rattled the door handle.

> “Fuckers! You absolute bloody idiots! If you fucked on my bed I swear to god…” He said, not even sure how to finish that sentence in his revulsion. “Jesus, change the fucking sheets, please.” He finished with a weary sigh before going back into his living room, rubbing his chin.
> 
> “Oh shit. Dogs.” He said, jumping slightly and moving to the door of his guest room. His dogs had mostly free reign over that room when he didn't have people visiting. He kept the door cracked usually so they could get in and out as they pleased, and now he pulled the door the whole way open. Clifford was laying on the bed, just like he wasn't supposed to, and Bruce was sitting on the floor, wagging his tail. 
> 
> “Sorry lads, I’m such a shitty dog dad.” He sighed, mostly talking to himself, as he made his way out onto the porch, his two sons hot on his trail. He pushed open the gate at the top after making sure there was no one super close to his house on the beach, and both dogs went running into the open space. 

They were both used to the water enough that neither felt the urge to jump in straight away as a visiting dog probably would have, but Clifford did play tag with the tide for a few moments while Louis was making his way down the stairs, slower than he would usually have so as not to fall in his hungover state.

When his toes hit the sand, he sighed and stretched, stepping forward. He still had some sand on his back from the night before, which he pushed off. He stifled a yawn and trudged further onto the beach. Bruce had already done his business somewhere and was at Louis’ side like the good boy he was, and Clifford was sniffing around closer to the waves.

Louis watched Clifford with faint amusement, scratching behind Bruce’s ears. His smile quickly dropped off his face when he saw Clifford’s ears perk up and his head turn to look at something down the beach to his left with interest. 

Sensing that Clifford was about to run off, he tensed and took a step forward. “Cliff, please don’t.” He said quietly, staring at his dog, silently begging him to not chase whatever it was that he was staring down over the horizon. 

Louis’ downfall was when he snuck a glance in the direction that his dog was looking to see that not only was he looking at something, but someone. It was… none other than Harry, from Grimshaws, jogging down the beach, looking positively sinful in a tank top and running shorts. Louis only had a moment to admire him before he saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. He jerked his head back and before he knew it or could say anything, Clifford was off, sprinting as quickly as possible towards Harry.

* * *

Harry usually was a morning person. Not today. He had only woken up an hour ago, cheek stuck to the page of his book he had last turned to, (searching for the perfect quote for his conclusion) forehead leaning on the kitchen table. Niall seemed to atleast have been able to make his way to the couch before he collapsed. He was sleeping on his back with his mouth open, making soft snuffling sounds in his dreams.

Harry blinked, rubbing his cheek and praying that there wasn't a red mark from his book. He looked around, taking in the kitchen. There was no sign of Barbara or Liam, and if the light from the doors was anything to go by, it was still relatively early in the morning. He stretched, rubbing his neck and standing, wincing when his knees creaked in protest.

He stumbled over to the fridge, downing a full bottle of the water before finally feeling better, finally awake. He moved through the room quietly so as to ensure that he wouldn't wake Niall on the couch, and pushed open the sliding glass doors, stepping outside, being greeted by the sound of crashing waves and the smell of salt air. 

Taking a deep breath, he decided on a whim to go for a run. He didn't run often, only when, at university, the weather was too beautiful to resist. And beach weather was too beautiful to resist.

After snaring a pair of sneakers from his room and a pair of shorts and tank top to run in, he set off. Running was monotonous, so he liked it quite a bit. Before he knew it, his house was out of sight, and he paused before he turned around. He wasn't one to run on sand often, so he couldn't run as far as he could on pavement. He was properly exhausted by the time the _Coconut Cottage_ was in his line of sight, and he slowed to a walk, lowering his heart rate.

He wasn't quite looking in front of him - too distracted by the beautiful shoreline to his left - so he was quite shocked when he was rammed into by a black, fuzzy mass. His heart seized for a moment when he felt a hot breath on his skin, but calmed when he felt the dog licking him over and over again. Anywhere that his skin was bare was currently either being covered by sand or dog’s kisses. 

> “Cliff! Fuck! Off!” Came a breathless yell somewhere by Harry’s feet. 

Harry, finally having gained his bearings a bit, was able to push the dog off him enough to sit up then, giving the fluffy animal a few pats on the side. “Oh, no worries, man.” Harry said, finally getting to his knees and then to his feet, preoccupied with brushing off the backs of his legs. The dog had run back to its owner then, who Harry finally looked at. And… it was Louis. _His_ Louis. Louis from Grimshaw’s. 

Louis seemed surprised to see him, but he more than anything seemed worried, eyes roaming over Harry to see if Cliff had done any true damage. 

> “Oh, Louis, er, hi.” Harry managed to say, hands frozen on the backs of his thighs like a weirdo. He quickly removed them. “Is this your dog?” He asked with a slight grin, before seeing what seemed to be a brown and slightly bigger version of the other dog standing at Louis’ side. 

Harry gasped in delight. “Two dogs?” He asked, grinning widely. Louis let out a breath like he was relieved and nodded quickly.

> “Yes, this is Bruce,” He said, gesturing to the dog at his side. “And this _heathen_ ,” He growled slightly at Clifford, who was wagging his tail and staring at him. “Is Clifford. It seems you two have already been acquainted.” He teased, turning back to look at Harry then.

Harry nodded, offering his hand out for Bruce to sniff before looking at Louis with a grin. “So are you out with them for a walk?” He asked, before mentally berating himself. What a stupid question. 

Louis didn’t even make fun of him for it. “Not really, just letting them have their morning piss and such.” He said lightly, waving a hand and turning, beginning to walk towards the _Coconut Cottage_. Harry walked next to him, he figured it was casual as long as they were both going that way anyways.

> “Do you live on the beach?” Harry asked after a moment, trying to sound casual and not weird, but curious as to how close Louis was staying to him.
> 
> “Oh, yeah,” Louis hummed, watching Clifford and Bruce chase each other through the sand fondly. “I live just a few houses down, there-” He said, pointing to the unnamed green house that sat just across the street from the _Coconut Cottage_. 

Before he could stop himself or think better of it, Harry gasped. “You were the fuckers lighting off the fireworks.” He said, remembering Niall’s insults, voice quiet. “We- I apologize. I'm so sorry Niall yelled.” He babbled immediately, stopping in his tracks and staring at Louis.

> “Who’s Niall?” He asked, sounding slightly confused and amused. “Why- Whats wrong? What are you talking about” He asked, stopping as well and watching him.

Harry opened his mouth to respond when he heard his name being called to his right. He looked over and saw Barbara and Liam making their way towards him, stepping off the porch of the _Coconut Cottage_ , both in bathing suits, arms laden with beach gear. Barbara was waving wildly with her free hand, and they both paused when they reached Louis and Harry.

> “Er, I'm staying in the _Coconut Cottage_ with Barbara,” Harry said, finally looking back at Louis, gesturing to Barbara and then to Liam. “Liam, and Niall, who I’m assuming is probably still asleep.” He said, grinning slightly at Barbara, who confirmed his assumption with a nod.
> 
> “Oh, cool, it’s nice to have renters who I know will take care of the place.” Louis teased, before nodding and smiling politely at Barbara and Liam. He paused for a moment as Barbara and Liam made their way away from them and towards the water to set up chairs, thinking. 

Harry was just turning back to him from watching Barbara and Liam go when he saw his face drop. Harry tried not to wince when it was clear that he was remembering the situation and comments from the night before. “Wait, you’re-” He started but was cut off again by Niall, who was standing on the upper porch and screeching Harry’s name, waving wildly and gesturing for him to come inside.

> “I’m sorry, I should go see what he wants.” Harry said, quick to take an out so he didn't have to defend Niall’s comments by himself. “It's good to see you though, Louis.” He said, putting every ounce of genuinity he could into those few words. 

Before Louis could say anything else, Harry turned on his heel and ran, jogging as well as he could in the deep sand. Halfway back to the house, he turned and stopped, feeling Louis’ eyes burning into his back. Louis was indeed staring, looking puzzled, rooted to the spot where he was, his dogs running around his feet.

> “My, uh, friends and I are having a little barbeque thing tonight. I can explain then, if you want to come by.” He said, desperately wanting to see Louis again in a more casual, carefree social setting. “It'll just be, uh, on the beach.” He said, gesturing to the general area in front of their two houses. Louis opened his mouth, but Harry turned tail and ran before Louis could say anything.

And that is how Louis Tomlinson met Harry Styles for the third time; after his dog had tackled him into the sand, under the watchful eyes of fate in front of their neighboring houses, being run away from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. It's been hard to find the motivation to write since we left the beach, but I am going to try and finish this either way.
> 
> I am going to try to clear some things up:  
> 1\. There will be no smut. I have nothing against it and plan to try writing it someday, but not yet. There will be implied sex and sexual situations, so keep that in mind if you continue.  
> 2\. Harry is shy. Louis is confused. I don't love the way I characterized them, but I did so I'm gonna stick with it.  
> 3\. There will be 6 chapters total combined with an ambiguous ending and an epilogue with another semi-ambiguous ending. This is meant to be a feel-good story and probably nothing more.
> 
> Title is from Little Mix's song "A Mess (Happy 4 U)"
> 
> UnBeta-ed, as usual. Comments/Kudos are much appreciated. If you notice something wrong please let me know politely (I'm fragile).


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